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At The Peace Party VIII

My quivering heart won.

I wanted to meet my mother. I wanted to know her.

Yes, it might be too soon. Yes, it might come with consequences. But I needed to hug her. I needed her arms around me.

If the worst comes to worst, I would stay with Diana and her family. Just let my mother know that I was alive. Let she be bereft of this hurtful pain.

Still, Dora? Really? You couldn’t think of a better name that didn’t have the same syllabic pronunciation like your real name? My mind chided me, yet I looked unfazed, refusing to give my feelings away.

I hadn’t been thinking. I hadn’t stopped to think of the best name to give my mother. ‘Dora’ had just escaped my mouth, before my brain had dwelled on it.

But that wasn’t what was causing my heart to race against itself. No. The name given to cover my identity was secondary to the cause of my nervousness now.

My heart raced as if it had a mind of its own, each beat quickening with the building anticipation. The thud in my chest echoed in my ears,
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